


Magellanic Clouds

by padfootagain



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 10:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17262623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padfootagain/pseuds/padfootagain
Summary: Oscar took the worst decision of his life to let you follow your dream, and to follow his. But now you are about to marry another man, and he is not sure to be able to overcome it this time…





	1. Bésame

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of angst. On-going series. I hope you all like it! There are two timelines here, so the two timelines are separated by these —— and two paragraphs of the same timeline are separated with these ***** (and the date and place are indicated when I change anyway…)

_Florida_

_1995_

Oscar was not surprised to see you watching the stars. He wasn’t surprised to see you with a book of astronomy resting on your laps, as you tried to recognize the stars and the constellations across the clear sky above Florida. He watched you for a moment without making a sound, merely admiring you under the silvery light of the moon.

You were beautiful… you had always been…

A small smile appeared on his lips as he walked towards you, climbing up the little hill of sand where you had found a refuge from the busy town nearby. He sat down by your side in silence, putting down his guitar next to him, looking up at the shining balls of fire above his head as well.

“How was your day?” you asked, your eyes still fixed upon the little lights you used as ceiling.

“Not that bad,” he smiled, not looking at you either. “You?”

It had become a little game between the two of you. The first that would look at the other instead of the stars lost.

“I’ve finally managed to spot the cloud I was looking for,” you grinned.

“Where is it?”

You pointed at a little area in the sky that appeared a bit more bluish than the rest of the inky sky.

“Do you see it?” you asked.

“So… that’s the cloud of… Magellan right?”

“It’s the Magellanic Cloud,” you nodded.

“It’s the kind of blue smoke, right?”

“Yes,” you giggled. “That’s it.”

“It’s tiny.”

“From here it looks tiny but in reality it’s gigantic.”

“I believe you.”

His hand searched upon the sand for a moment until it brushed against your fingers, and he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I was wondering…” he said softly. “Would you come with me to my cousin’s wedding? I don’t want to go there alone.”

“You won’t be going alone, you’ll go with your whole family,” you laughed, finally looking at him.

A smirk formed on his face.

“You lose,” he grinned.

“Why should I come with you when you’re already going to this wedding with your whole family?” you asked, ignoring his remark.

“Because I’m going to be bored if you don’t. Come on, I want my best friend with me to survive two days with my _entire_ family.”

“I’m sure you can manage, Oscar.”

“Y/N, please…” he tightened his hold on your hand, making your heart skip a beat.

But you hid your reaction as much as you could, thanking the dim light for making your reddening cheeks unnoticeable.

Oscar was your best friend, he had always been. Since you were three years old and playing at school, he was there playing with you. Laughing with you. Talking with you. Sharing the best and the worst with you.

But now, you were growing into young adults, losing your naive looks and growing into more complex people and discovering feelings you had never imagined. And you didn’t know what to do with them.

You didn’t know how to deal with the way butterflies awoke in your stomach whenever he smiled at you, the way smiles formed on their own accord across your lips at the sound of his laugh, the way your thoughts always drifted towards him, the way he walked through your dreams at night…

He was your best friend, he had always been, and you doubted that his feelings for you had evolved as yours had. You guessed that it didn’t matter. You were sixteen… you had plenty of time to tell him.

He gave you that very cute pout of his that never failed to break your will and convince you to do anything he wanted.

You heaved a sigh.

“Alright, I’ll come then,” you gave in, and he grinned.

“Thank you!”

He held you in a tight hug, making you giggle.

“Alright, alright… but then you owe me one… You’ve got to do something for me in return,” you smiled, and Oscar’s heart jumped against his ribs at the sight of this mischievous grin that crossed your face.

“And what could that be?” he asked, finally pulling completely away, and your heart could finally slow down.

“Teach me some Spanish,” you grinned, closing your book and throwing it away.

He rolled his eyes.

“Are you serious? You’ve been hanging around my house since we were three years old and you still can’t speak Spanish? I don’t see how I can help, maybe you’re just bad at it.”

You slapped his arm, making him laugh.

“Come on! Teach me!” you asked again.

“What do you want to learn?” he gave in, chuckling.

“The song your mother was singing the other day… what does it mean? Teach me that song.”

“Which one?”

“This one, you know?”

You started to slowly hum the melody, and a dreamy smile appeared on his lips at the sound of your soft voice. He had to shake himself to bring his feet back to the ground once you were silent again.

He heaved a sigh, now knowing of which song you were talking about.

“Really?!”

“Oh… come on!” you nudged him. “You have your guitar, it’s perfect!”

“Do you _really_ want me to teach you that song?”

“I do,” you nodded. “Oh… I see… not enough… punk… rock… rebel for you to play these days?”

Oscar rolled his eyes, grabbing his guitar.

“You make me sound so overdramatic,” he complained, although the little smile that played on his lips was betraying him.

“You are, rock star.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Come on!”

He chuckled.

“Alright, alright…”

“What was the name of the song?” you asked, while he was getting ready to play.

“ _Bésame Mucho,_ ” he answered.

“What does that mean?”

But instead of answering, he started to play.

“So… do you want me to sing in English?” he asked, his fingers still moving across the strings.

“No, sing it Spanish first, please. And then you can teach me the lyrics.”

He nodded, focusing on his guitar again. For a moment there was no sound by the shushed roar of the sea and strings vibrating through the night, sending notes floating all around Oscar and you. And then he started to softly sing the words you couldn’t understand. And his voice was soft and warm as a blanket wrapped around you, and you forgot the rest of the world for a few minutes, merely listening to him…

When he fell silent again, all you wanted was for him to sing it again, and again, and again, forever on, never stopping. You felt so peaceful then…

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, and he smiled.

“It’s a pretty good song.”

“Despite the fact that it’s not punk?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not only interested in _that_ ,” he chuckled.

“It was beautiful, thank you,” you smiled.

“Yeah… I can’t sing though.”

“Don’t say that, it was great!”

He shrugged.

“You’re trying too hard to sound like someone else when you sing with the guys in your band,” you told him, “or when you sing rock songs… things like that.”

He frowned.

“Do you think so?”

You nodded.

“This was better,” you smiled. “Cause this time it’s Oscar singing.”

The two of you exchanged a smile.

“So… what does that all mean?”

“You want me to teach it to you?”

“Yes, please.”

You leaned closer to him to watch his fingers running across the strings again. But he was playing slowly this time, giving you time to understand the lyrics he was singing.

“I’ll just sing it line by line, okay?”

You nodded.

“And do tell me what it means,” you added, and he smiled, giving you a short nod.

“Ready?”

You nodded excitedly, and Oscar sang again.

“ _Bésame, Bésame mucho. Como si fuera esta noche la ultima vez.”_

He waited for you to repeat the lyrics.

“What does that mean?” you asked, the guitar still playing the soft notes.

He stared at you, his gaze more intense than before, and when he answered, he tilted his head slightly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“ _Kiss me, Kiss me…_ ” he searched for the right words, before shrugging, apparently finding no words in English that would sound like he meant to carry the meaning, “ _a lot. As if this night was the last time._ ”

You nodded slowly, and caught him glancing at your lips before setting his dark eyes upon your stare again.

“What comes after that?” you breathed.

You finally realized that his shoulder was touching yours, that you two faces were close, just inches away actually, but you didn’t want to back away. It felt delicious, the little tickles his nearness was sending through your entire body, until they crossed even your soul.

“ _Bésame…”_

“ _Kiss me…”_ you whispered.

The space between your two faces shrank, and you could barely noticed that you were leaning towards him just as much as he was leaning towards you…

 _“Bésame mucho…_ ”

 _“Kiss me a lot…_ ”

Oscar’s fingers became numb, resting upon the strings without moving anymore, the sound of the guitar quickly dying out.

Your faces were so close, and your hearts were beating so fast…

“Bésame.”

“Kiss me, Oscar…”

The next second, the small space between your lips and his had disappeared, the cold air replaced by his warm lips against your mouth, and you both closed your eyes.

It was your first kiss…

Oscar could barely dare to think about what he was doing, about the fact that he was kissing _you_ , his best friend, about the fear that was rising a bit more every second that you could push him away and slap him…

He moved his lips slowly over yours, shyly, until he felt you leaning closer and tentatively moving your lips against his too. His hand came up to cup your face, drawing you even closer to him, until he deepened the kiss…

You held on his denim jacket for dear life, certain that you were going to faint. But only too soon, his lips left yours, his warm breath lingering on your face. And all you wanted was for him to kiss you again.

You looked at each other for a moment, your soul losing itself in his dark eyes into which you were certain that all the stars were hiding… as if they didn’t have enough of the infinite space, and needed to find refuge in these two ebony orbs. There were entire galaxies hiding there… And he was drowning in your gaze, but for some reason didn’t want to struggle to get away and breathe again. He was happy to let himself sink, he could have done so for all eternity…

Finally he cleared his throat, the fear of losing you too much for his heart to bear anymore.

“Y/N… Are you going to slap me?”

You laughed. You let out a bright, luminous wave of laughter that sounded strangely like the melody he had been struggling to play for so long now.

“No, I’m not going to slap you, Oscar,” you chuckled.

He smiled, opening his mouth to speak again, but you shushed him, pressing your lips to his again.

You heard the thud noise of his guitar falling upon the sand, but didn’t pay any attention to it. His arm sneaked around your waist, and you shifted to let him guide you into his tight embrace, losing your fingers through his curly dark hair, while his other hand was set on the back of your neck, pressing your lips harder against his.

When you broke away, you were both out of breath, your two hearts beating so fast and so hard that you could feel the other’s heartbeat against your chests.

You looked at each other again for a moment, shy smiles playing on your two faces.

“I… I think I see… a bit more than a friend in you… these days,” Oscar stuttered, his eyes travelling from your infinite eyes to your lips that he only wanted to kiss again.

“I see a bit more than a friend in you as well,” you smiled.

You both grinned.

“I think… would you go out with me?” Oscar asked messily, and you chuckled, running your hands through his hair again, making his eyelids fall without him having a chance to stop them.

“I’d love to,” you nodded.

He leaned further until your lips collided once more.

“Oscar… I think… I think I’m in love with you,” you whispered against his mouth, and he could barely catch your words over the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach.

But he did catch your words, and he smiled.

“Actually… I think I love you too,” he whispered in a low chuckle, before capturing your lips in such an intense kiss that you couldn’t refrain a moan.

You remained there, sitting on the sand, kissing, for a long while. But eventually, he pulled away, stroking your cheek, and he let himself fall down on his back upon the sand.

“So… talk to me about that cloud of yours,” he smiled.

You grinned, lying next to him, but he lifted his arm so you could cuddle against him, and you were soon trapped in his warm arms again.

“Can you still see it?” you asked.

He nodded.

“One day I’ll know everything about it. I’ll know what it’s really made of,” you breathed. “I mean… aren’t you curious to know what all these things we see from afar are made of?”

He nodded again, peppering sweet kisses across your temple and forehead.

“I am,” he whispered against your skin. “So tell me about it.”

He listened to everything that you had read about Magellanic Clouds, he listened as your voice started to fade, exhaustion slowly creeping up inside you. But he didn’t stop you.

“I’m tired,” you finally sighed, closing your eyes.

“Sleep then.”

“Here?”

“I’m here, what do you risk?”

You smiled.

“I’ll talk to you about that cloud later, okay?” you whispered.

Oscar sat up just enough for him to take of his denim jacket, covering you with it, making sure you would be warm.

“Yeah, you’ll tell me everything later. We have all the time we want anyway,” he smiled.

“That much?”

“We promised each other that we would always be friends, remember?”

“We were nine,” you chuckled.

“Doesn’t mean that I was lying.”

You nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck.

“You’re right.”

He stroked your back softly, watching your peaceful features until you fell asleep, before closing his own eyes.

You had all the time you wanted to be together after all…

——————————————————————-

_Today_

_New York City_

Oscar closed the door of his car, before swinging his guitar on his shoulder and walking towards your house. You loved hearing him play guitar while you cooked, he knew it. And after spending almost a year away from each other, he meant to make you spend a happy evening.

His last job had kept him busy for months, and when he finally came home, you were the one who had been sent in another country to stare at the stars.

A small smile appeared on his lips at the thought. He was so proud of you. He was so proud of the way you had struggled but never given up, the way you had fought with all your strength and finally reached your goal. Despite the fact that your position as an astrophysicist could keep you away from him for a long while, he was still so proud of you.

He knocked on your front door, smiling as he heard the soft sound of your naked feet running on the wooden ground.

You opened the door quickly, knowing it would be him, and a bright grin crossed your face at the sight of him.

“Hi!” you shrieked excitedly, hugging him tight.

“Hi,” he laughed. “How are you?”

“Fine. Come in, I have so many things to tell you!”

As he walked inside your home, he was met by the delicate scent of fresh mint and lavender. The house smelled like you…

“You brought your guitar!” you noticed, and Oscar nodded, putting it down  to rest against the wall.

“You always say that you cook better meals when I play. And as I’m going to eat this one…”

“Oh, I see. You just want to eat a good meal actually, right?”

“Exactly,” he chuckled, taking off his warm coat and hanging it near your door, where he knew you kept a place for him…

But when he lifted his arm to hang it to the little hook on the wall, he finally noticed that there was another coat there already…

“Oh, just, put it where you want,” you said with a smile.

“I reckon that you _do_ have things to tell me,” he said, throwing his coat on the sofa.

He forced a smile, thanking his skills at acting. He struggled to keep his composure, when inside his chest, his heart was slowly breaking.

You had met someone…

“I do! We haven’t seen each other in… how much time? Ten months?”

“Eleven,” Oscar corrected you, walking to the window, pretending to watch the street all wrapped in white thanks to the snow, when he just wanted to run away from your glance. “Eleven months, two weeks and three days.”

You froze, your movement to grab a bowl suspended in midair.

“You’ve forgotten the seven hours,” you tried to joke, but your voice came out as a shaky whisper, betraying you.

“Right… add seven hours to the count then,” he said, and you could hear that he was trying to joke, but there was no humour in his voice.

You shook yourself, eventually taking that bowl you were looking for, and picking up some eggs from your fridge.

“What do you want to eat?” you asked.

“Anything you want to cook,” he answered, his tone lighter as well.

But he didn’t turn towards you. He kept his brown eyes fixed on the street he couldn’t see. His heart was aching so much…

For the hundredth time… the thousandth time… the millionth time… he regretted that decision he had taken so long ago to let you go…

“Alright… like danger today?” you smiled.

“Yeah… feel reckless,” he smiled as well, finally looking away from the deserted street.

He walked to pick up his guitar, and took a chair to sit in the kitchen with you.

“So… tell me everything,” he said, a smile back on his lips. “What happened up there?”

“Well… My research are… going well,” you answered. “We’ve managed to isolate most of the compounds we were looking for around Betelgeuse.”

“The one in the constellation of Orion, right?”

You nodded slowly, a smile forming on your face.

“You remember that,” you breathed, a tender smile now curving up your lips.

“I do listen to you when you talk, you know?” he joked.

You couldn’t help but close your eyes, stopping the knife from cutting another piece of red pepper as the air was suddenly filled with the soft sound of guitar playing.

“And I bet that you were right all along and found fullerene everywhere,” he went on.

“We did,” you nodded, your smile only widening.

Oscar remembered everything, despite the fact that it was your passion and not his. And that made you feel so happy and special…

Silence filled up the room for a while, but it was a pleasant silent. It was comfortable and warm, turned into notes by the guitar that Oscar was still playing. Silences were always comfortable when he was here.

“What about you?” you finally asked after a while. “Any new role in the coming future?”

“I have an audition next week,” he nodded.

You turned towards him as you threw the vegetables in the pan next to you.

“That’s great!”

“Fingers crossed,” he smiled back at you.

“What role would it be?”

“That’s a surprise,” he winked at you, making you laugh.

You turned away from him again to cook, and he stared at you for a moment. He stared at your silhouette standing there, bathed in the fake light of the kitchen, your naked feet, your oversized T-shirt… you were so close and yet out you were unreachable. He stared at you with eyes full of bitterness and pain and fear…

He wished it was in his kitchen that you would be cooking.

He clenched his jaw. He was hesitating, a battle raging in his brain and heart. He hadn’t seen you in almost a year. You were calling each other often, but it wasn’t the same. There were things that needed to be discussed face to face and the owner of this coat hanging next to your front door was one of them. He didn’t want to spoil the evening. He wanted to be merry and to joke, and make you laugh, and beam at him like you did in his dreams. But he was so eager to know who this man was. Was it serious between you and him? Was he just a fling? You had had flings before, but none of them had ever left clothes in your doorway.

He bit his tongue, thinking that it was better if you spoke first about it. But he didn’t need to wait for long, you soon guided the conversation towards this topic he longed to discuss.

“Have you met someone?” you asked, putting plates on the table.

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Not in luck these days.”

“I see… have you tried to serenade them though?”

He laughed.

“No, I didn’t.”

“That’s your mistake. Especially if you sing in Spanish.”

He arched an amused eyebrow.

“Now, now… look at you… have a thing for Latinos these days?”

“Singing in Spanish is sexy,” you admitted. “After all, that’s how you got me, remember?”

The sound of guitar strings sending notes through the room immediately died out.

“You were the one who was begging for Spanish lessons that night,” he replied slowly, studying your features, searching for any sign that could betray your thoughts.

You walked to the pan again instead of answering.

“It’s ready,” you said, acting as if the conversation had never happened.

You both walked to the table, and he thanked you as you put food in his plate.

“So… as we were talking about our love lives,” he smiled, picking up his fork, “are you going to tell me who is the unlucky owner of that coat ?”

He was smiling, apparently teasing you. You knew him enough to be aware of this little frown that crossed his brow though, and of the lingering tone he was using, sign that he didn’t really want you to answer, but knew that you would have to tell him eventually.

“His name is Charles,” you answered.

He nodded, eating some vegetables.

“How did you two meet?” he asked casually.

“He’s a friend of Meg’s.”

“I see… she dragged you in one of these awful double dates again, then?”

“She did,” you laughed. “But this time it worked, so I’m not going to complain.”

“After almost a hundred of failing attempts… congrats!”

You laughed, shaking your head. He chuckled as well, despite his heavy heart.

“So… how serious is it between you and your newly-found Romeo?” he asked with humour, drinking some red wine.

“Actually… we’ve been together for… ten months.”

“Oh…”

He gave you an impressed face, hiding the glint of sadness that he knew would appear in his eyes.

“Wow… that’s pretty long. Even for you.”

You threw your napkin at him, making him laugh.

“You’re the one to talk, Mr. One-night-stand!” you replied, laughing as well.

“That’s not true!”

“For how long did your longest relationship lasted?”

“Five years.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Beside _our_ relationship.”

He searched for a moment, before chuckling.

“Two months,” he laughed, and you soon joined him.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying!”

You both kept on laughing for a while.

“How serious is it between the two of you?” he asked, once you were both calm again.

You put down your fork, looking at him, and he knew that the conversation was about to shift to something much more serious. You only stopped eating a meal when you were angry or had an important news to announce.

“I’m listening,” he smiled, taking his glass and lifting it to his lips.

“Actually…” you said softly, taking a deep breath to gather your courage and tell him, “we’re engaged.”

He choked on his red wine, spitting it slightly, coughing hard. So hard that you rose from your chair, pouring some water in his other glass and stroking his back soothingly.

“Now, it’s not the moment to choke to death,” you chuckled.

“Not funny,” he replied, his voice hoarse, before coughing again.

“You’re okay?”

“Couldn’t you wait for me to finish to swallow before announcing something like that?” he complained.

You sat next to him, waiting for his breathing to be back to normal. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, and you guessed that he was still trying to breathe normally, when in reality, he was fighting again his breaking heart.

“You… you’re engaged?” he asked, looking at you again.

He had tears in his eyes and once again, you guessed wrong, thinking that it was because of his cough, when it was because of how painful your words were.

He felt like his heart had been torn away from his ribcage, burnt, stabbed, trampled… and placed back in his chest just for him to feel the pain.

“I’m engaged,” you nodded, smiling.

“Where’s your ring then?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“It was too big, Charles brought it back to the shop to be remade.”

Your smile was so bright, you were beaming… how could he tell you the truth then…?

“I’m happy for you,” he grinned. “Congratulations!”

He hugged you tight, making you laugh.

“Thank you,” you laughed. “You are obviously invited to the wedding.”

“I hope so! Why do you think I’m still here, I’m just waiting to be able to eat for free!”

You both laughed again, still holding on each other. And none of you seemed to be willing to pull away.

“I’m so happy for you, Y/N,” he said earnestly, forcing the tears in his eyes to go away. “I’m glad you finally met someone who deserves you.”

You smiled.

“Thank you, Oscar. Could you help me preparing the wedding though?”

“I am not dressing up as a bridesmaid. You know that I don’t look that good in a dress.”

You laughed again, nodding.

“Deal, but will you still help me?”

“Of course I will. You’re my best friend.”

“And I will always be, right?” you asked softly.

He nodded.

“I promised you that you would be, do you remember?”

You laughed.

“We were nine, Oscar!”

“Doesn’t mean that I was lying.”

You nodded, closing your eyes, and this time, it was your turn to chase the tears away, the memories of the salty sea and the soft melody brought back only too vividly to your mind by his words.

“I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. Always,” he whispered, and you knew that he was making a promise.

“Great! Because I’m going to need help to organize everything!”

**********************************************

You had spent the whole night talking, and when he finally came home, dawn was already painting the sky with warm colours. Oscar let himself fall onto his sofa, throwing his shoes away. He opened the bottle of whiskey he kept for desperate situations, and drank directly at the bottle, wincing at the feeling of the bitter fire burning his throat.

He reckoned that it was a desperate situation. You were about to marry someone else…

He closed his eyes, tears finally falling freely down his cheeks as he laid down on the couch, drinking another gulp of liquor.

He cursed himself so much. What a moron he had been back then, years and years ago, when he had let you slip between his fingers. At the time, he thought that it was the best thing that he could do for you. He had to struggle to become an actor, and you were struggling at University. You were thousands of miles away. He couldn’t let himself be a weight on your shoulders when you had to work so hard to finally reach this job you had dreamt of all your life. And he knew that if he wanted to have a career in acting, there were sacrifices to make.

And now the only thing he wanted was to go back in time to that dreadful day when he had freed your heart and broken his. He wished he could take all his words back. He wished he had not given up…

He drank again, picking up his guitar, and when his fingers moved on their own accord on the strings it was to play that same song he had played so long ago on that beach and dozens of times with you after that…

It was to play your song…

His entire body trembled as he let out a sob, the pain too much to take. No matter all that you had been through together, no matter the years you had spent apart, no matter the friendship you had forged again, no matter all these lies he had spoken to you just to keep you in his life, no matter how young you both were when it had begun… the truth was still sharp as a knife and had not changed in more than twenty years.

He was still in love with you…


	2. White Dresses

_Florida_

_1997_

You were nervous. You checked your dress for what seemed to be the hundredth time, but you couldn’t help it. Actually, your head couldn’t comprehend why you were feeling this way. Why your hands were shaking, why your heart constantly stumbled in your chest, why your stomach kept on making crazy flip-flops… Why were you so excited and nervous at the same time? It wasn’t like you were about to take an exam, or meet a stranger…

You were to meet your boyfriend, so what was the big deal?

Well, it was the-end-of-the-year ball. Which meant everybody at your school trying to impress each other.

You were about to hate it.

You knew that Oscar wouldn’t have been mad if you had asked him not to go there, but you called yourself ridiculous. You had someone to go there with, someone that you deeply loved, it couldn’t be _that_ terrible, right?

But there was something else on your mind… something you had to tell Oscar. You had known for almost a week now, you had to tell him. Even if you were scared of his reaction.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

You could do this…

You could do this…

You could…

The doorbell rang through your house, your eyes snapping open.

And here, you were panicking again…

“Y/N!” you heard your mother calling for you. “Oscar is here!”

“Coming!” you shouted back.

You checked your reflection one last time. Arranged your hair when it didn’t need to be arranged. Straightened your dress that was already perfectly settled on your body…

Another deep breath, before you would turn around and finally open the door, striding down the stairs. You needed to go there fast, or you would never gather the strength to do it…

But you froze at the sight of him, standing there, in a black tuxedo, his hair surprisingly tamed. Your heart took such a leap against your ribcage, you were scared it could escape your chest.

He turned around at the sound of your footsteps hurrying down the flight of stairs as he stood there, in the hallway.

But he froze at the sight of you.

His lips parted, his mouth agape. All thoughts had vanished from his mind as he stared up at you.

He didn’t control his eyes as they travelled down the length of your body, from your hair cautiously tied up in an elegant bun, down to your lips reddened with lipstick, and further down your beautiful white dress that fitted your curves perfectly. He couldn’t refrain a smile at the sight of your naked feet.

“Hey.”

The sound of your voice made him look up at you again, and you fell into his dark eyes.

“Hey.”

His warm voice sounded a bit hoarse and was barely more than a whisper.

You exchanged a shy smile.

Next to the door that led to the living room, your mother was smiling.

“You ready to go?” he asked, his voice still an octave too deep.

“Yeah,” you nodded, walking down the rest of the stairs.

“Don’t come home too late,” your mother admonished despite her smile.

“Yes, mom,” you smiled, putting on your shoes.

You took Oscar’s hand, before leading him out of your house, unwilling to let your mother give the two of you a lecture. And your boyfriend seemed to understand your thoughts, as he followed you with an amused smile on his lips.

You didn’t live very far away from the school, so you just needed a few minutes walking to get there. Silence settled all around the two of you. It wasn’t completely uncomfortable, although it wasn’t the comfortable one that usually surrounded both of you when you were together either.

It was the silence that surrounded two young and shy souls that didn’t know how to handle the feelings someone else brought upon them.

After just a moment, you couldn’t take any more of it.

“I like your suit,” you whispered.

He chuckled in response, and you could feel that he was relaxing next to you again. He slipped your fingers in his large palm.

“Thanks,” he smirked.

You blushed fiercely. But there was nothing you could find to say despite a compliment about his dark tuxedo. Because the truth was that your mind was made blank because of the sight… he looked so handsome dressed like that…

“I love your dress too,” his smile changed slightly, shifting to something sweeter and shier as well. “You’re gorgeous.”

You tightened your hold on his hand.

“Thank you,” you grinned up at him, feeling a weight falling from your shoulders.

You arrived in front of your high school. You could see your teachers there from afar, and your classmates entering the large hall, all of them dressed as beautifully as they could.

You took a deep breath.

Of course you had a few friends at school, but you didn’t see the point in all this. The celebration that you had to spend with people that you didn’t like as much as with your friends. You didn’t want to go there. But it was tradition, and everyone was taking it so seriously, you guessed that there was a reason for it, right?

Next to you, Oscar had a soft smile on his lips. A sweet, loving expression at the sight of you. He could read through you as if you were a book open before him. He knew you didn’t want to go in there.

And the truth was, he didn’t want to go either, he just wanted to be with you, no one else…

“Actually, I think I have a better idea,” he said.

You frowned hard, your eyes shifting to stare at the two ebony orbs that were set upon you.

“What if we went somewhere else?” he asked.

“Where?” you asked back.

He shrugged, looking around, before pulling you away from the school.

“Oscar, where are you taking me?” you asked in a chuckle.

You trusted him blindly. No matter the time, no matter the fact that the inky sky was only shadows and scattered stars, you trusted him so blindly he could have led you to the other side of the world, and you would have followed him there.

He stopped right before the large oak that you loved so much. It was inside the school, actually. Surrounded by soft grass, far enough from the entrance and from any building for the two of you to be alone and certain not to be disturbed. Oscar turned to you, a proud grin crossing his face.

“Better than a crowded dance floor, right?” he asked.

You nodded, but a worried expression was making you frown, and his smile faltered, waning, before it disappeared altogether.

“I mean… unless you’d prefer to go in there,” he added, his tone uncertain.

You shrugged, biting your lip.

“I thought you wanted to go there,” you breathed.

It was his turn to shrug.

“Not really, to be honest,” he said. “I just want to spend a nice evening with you.”

“But everybody is talking about it!”

He frowned.

“Since when do you care about everybody’s opinion?”

“I don’t want you to miss that party…”

“Do you want to go in there? Be honest.”

You slowly shook your head.

“No, I don’t want to,” you admitted.

He took a step towards you, and kissed your forehead.

“Then we’re not going. Because do you know what I want? I want my beautiful girlfriend to smile, that’s all I want. Come on, give me a smile.”

Instead of a smile, you offered him a bright grin.

“Here’s my ray of sunshine,” he chuckled, taking both your hands in his. “Let’s watch the stars for a while, okay?”

You nodded, still grinning, and let him guide you under the tree, not to close to the trunk so you could see the shining stars through the green leaves and the thick branches. He wrapped his arms around you, letting you nuzzle your face against his shoulder and the crook of his neck as you both laid down on the grass.

Silence settled between the two of you, although this time, it felt like a warm blanket.

Long minutes passed like this, as you held onto each other tightly, watching the stars and enjoying the warmth of the other’s body flowing through your own shape. But Oscar could feel your hold onto his shirt tightening even more, a tight hold that revealed worry, not tenderness.

“Are you going to tell me what worries you so much?” he asked after a while.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes once again.

“What makes you think that something is wrong with me?” you asked back, and he could identify your defensive tone despite your apparent calm.

“I know you like the back of my hand,” he earnestly answered. “I know when something’s wrong. So tell me. What is it?”

You heaved a sigh, sitting up.

“I don’t want to spoil our evening.”

But Oscar placed a reassuring hand on your back, sitting up as well.

“You won’t spoil it. Come on now, tell me what’s wrong.”

You took another deep breath, diving into his brown eyes, that in this dim light appeared almost as dark as the sky above you.

“I’ve received a response for one of the Universities I have applied to,” you said softly.

Your words were cautious and slow. You didn’t want to hurt him…

“Really?” he asked back excitedly. “And what did they say?”

“I’ve been accepted,” you answered, your voice low, an excited grin struggling to form on your lips while you tried to stop it.

“That’s wonderful!” he exclaimed, holding your arm in his large hand, a bright grin still stuck on his face. “Which one is it?”

You took a deep breath, no smile willing to appear on your lips anymore.

“Oxford.”

His smile vanished for a second, a flash of sadness passing through his dark chocolate eyes for just an instant. In the blink of an eye, his face was covered with excitement and happiness again, but you knew him too well to miss the signs.

He was sad…

“That’s wonderful, babe!” he said once again, his hand slipping up your arm to cup your cheek.

But you shook your head.

“I don’t know if I should go…”

“Are you kidding!?” he interrupted you. “It’s Oxford! It’s one of the best Universities in the world, of course you have to go!”

“But it’s so far away… it’s scary.”

“Sometimes… things we need to do are scary. It doesn’t mean that we should give up.”

“But I’ll be in England, and you’ll be here…”

“We’ll manage,” he reassured you.

“What if… you meet someone better while I’m away…”

But he merely laughed your remark away.

“There will never be anyone better than you for me.”

You could see that he meant it. That his answer was pure and earnest. He meant it…

“I’m the one who should get worried that you fall under the charms of some British bloke…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you chuckled. “Latinos are hotter anyway.”

“Are we now?” he laughed once more.

“You are,” you nodded.

He grew more serious again, although a soft smile lingered upon his lips, his brown eyes tender as they rested upon your worried features.

“It’s a wonderful news,” he said, his tone full of confidence. “You _have_ to do it. It’s the opportunity that you’ve been hoping for all your life! Y/N! You need to do this! It’s your chance. We’ll manage. We’ll call each other, and we’ll write tons of letters, and I’ll come to see you whenever I can, and you’ll come back for holidays as well… we’ll figure it out. We’ll overcome this. It doesn’t matter…”

“So many couples can’t take it… the distance…”

“We can. Because you’re not only my girlfriend, you’re my best friend as well. You’ve always been. It’s always been you, Y/N. I can’t live without you. I need you in my life. Do you understand? We’ll overcome it, because there is no other possibility. I need you, end of story. Do you get it?”

You slowly nodded, your throat too tightened by emotions to let any word form and pass the barrier of your lips. You felt tears filling your eyes, but Oscar merely stood up, before offering you his open hand and a warm smile.

“People are supposed to dance at this ball, right? Then let’s dance.”

You chuckled.

“Dance?”

He nodded, pulling you up as you seized his hand, and you were soon on your feet once more.

“You heard me right,” he nodded, mischief back in his eyes.

“We don’t even have music.”

“We don’t need any,” he replied, wrapping his arms around you and slowly making you sway to a silent melody that both your hearts recognized anyway. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you. I always will. I promise. No matter what may happen, no matter if you’re thousands of miles away or right here in my arms… I’ll always love you. I promise.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I love you, Oscar. With all my heart. I couldn’t live without you.”

“Me neither, Y/N.”

You heaved a sigh, and he felt you relaxing in his arms. The weight brought by this wonderful and yet frightening news seemed to suddenly be lifted from your tired frame. It was only Oscar, and his scent of spices and musk and coffee, and the stars all over your heads mingling with green leaves, and the warmth of his arms around you…

“Sing it, please,” you whispered, and you could feel him smiling against your hair.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the soft and deep sound of his voice to reach your ears. You didn’t need to tell him which song you were talking about, and you knew it. It was this song you were already dancing on even if there was nothing but silence around the two of you. It was _your_ song…

You felt electricity run up your spine as his warm voice finally enveloped you, and you forgot about the whole world around you, the whole infinite universe suddenly focused into Oscar’s embrace.

“ _Besame, Besame mucho…_ ”

————————————————————-

_Today_

_New York City_

He was expecting to be met by half a dozen of excited women. As he knocked onto your front door, he braced himself. But instead of finding all your friends, he only found your cousin, Claire, who would also by your maid of honour. He was relieved not to be the only one in the room filled with bridesmaid without responsibilities during the wedding, as he was not about to be one of them after all. He was still willing to help, and you were relieved to find out that his reaction to your engagement with another man - that he had yet to meet, by the way - was only supportive. After all, you shared a complicated past… But he seemed happy for you, genuinely excited and always volunteering to help. He didn’t complain when you went to choose your flowers, he tasted all the different types of cakes that were proposed to you and wisely advised you.

It’s only when you reached the step of the wedding dress that you saw him hesitating.

“What now? Ate too much cake?” you joked.

He merely rolled his eyes in response.

“Oscar, it’s important,” you tried to convince him.

“I know it is,” he replied, nodding, crossing his arms before his chest.

You could recognize that look on his face. It was the one he wore when he was uncomfortable: a slight blush across his cheeks darkened by a very short beard, his brown eyes out of focus resting on the tip of his dark shoes, a little frown crossing his brow, his lips turning into a thin line…

“I thought you wanted to help. And you were wonderful all day long…”

Next to you, Claire was frowning at Oscar’s suddenly strange behaviour.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked bluntly.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, and you could feel him becoming more and more defensive. “I’m just not sure that I’m the best person to help you find a wedding dress.”

“Why not? You know me better than anyone,” you answered.

His eyes raised from his shoes to meet your stare.

“You mean… after your fiancé, right?” he joked.

But you could see right through him. His tone was only faking humour.

“You’ve known me since we were kids,” you answered slowly. “Of course you know me better than him.”

He remained silent, but you could feel his dark eyes piercing through you, trying to read your very soul, searching for signs to put a meaning to your words.

After long seconds, he heaved a sigh.

“We should go, or we’ll be late,” Claire said, walking down the street towards the shop where you wanted to buy your dress.

“Oscar, I don’t understand…” you admitted, resting a hand on his arm.

You felt his muscles relax under your soft touch. It was a secret power of yours, he was certain of it, this ability you had to make him relax by a simple touch.

“I don’t know anything about wedding dresses,” he tried to argue.

But you merely chuckled.

“You can tell me if you like it or not, if I look stupid or not. That’s more than enough. And I know that you’ll be honest enough to help me choose the right dress for me. Come on now, let’s go.”

You offered him your hand. He kept on staring at you for a few seconds, but he knew he had already lost.

He could never refuse you anything anyway…

He heaved a sigh, before nodding and wrapping his calloused fingers around yours.

“Let’s go then,” he smiled.

But the happy gesture didn’t reach his troubled eyes, the two orbs looking darker than usual. There was a sadness in them that you couldn’t understand.

“We should talk later,” you said, walking down the street with him, avoiding to collide with busy people as they hurried next to you. “There’s something troubling you, I can see it.”

“There’s nothing troubling me,” he reassured you. “I’m just tired.”

“New role to prepare?”

He nodded, relieved to find a plausible excuse for his strange behaviour.

“I have lots of work to do, I haven’t slept much for the last few days.”

He bit his tongue. He hated lying to you, even if this was only half a lie. He had barely slept for a week. Since he had learned about your engagement… His exhaustion came from the lack of sleep, that was true, but his work had nothing to do with his troubled nights. Alcohol making him lose himself into memories of a past he wished could be present all over again, illusions and fantasies of a life that he would never have… Regrets. So many regrets tearing up his soul apart and creating demons to haunt his mind at night…

“I see. Can I help?” you asked, bringing him back to the crowded street.

“No, but it’s kind to offer,” he smiled.

He tightened his hold on your hand.

“You haven’t told me much about him yet, though,” he said.

“What about you meet him?” you replied with a smile. “You should come to have dinner with us. Next week?”

He nodded.

“Sounds good,” he gave you a warm smile, fleeing your gaze, knowing that you would notice that his smile was forced once again.

You looked away from him to open the door of the shop, and he released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when your stare finally left him.

He breathed deeply as he let the door close behind him, ignoring the little bell set above the door that rang through the shop. He needed to control himself, to brace himself for what was to come…

Eating cakes was one thing. Having fun picking random objects to add to your wedding list was one thing. Advising you on flowers and convincing you to choose your favourites and to ignore your future mother-in-law’s opinion was one thing.

But seeing you in a wedding dress was something else entirely. Because it was helping you choose the clothes you would wear to give yourself to another man. It was helping you choose the clothes he would have wanted you to wear to give yourself to _him_ …

He cleared his throat to avoid his voice to shake, before looking at you again.

“So… what have you in mind anyway?”

You shrugged.

“Just something white.”

“You’re feeling reckless today.”

“I knew you would notice the originality of it.”

You both chuckled, when the saleswoman you were supposed to meet came into the room, an amused smile on her face at the sight of you and Oscar.

“I’m afraid it brings bad luck for the future husband to see the bride’s dress before the wedding,” she said, staring at Oscar.

“Oh no, I’m not the fiancé,” he reassured the woman, who frowned slightly.

“Really?” she insisted, looking down at your and Oscar’s still intertwined fingers.

You laughed, but Oscar released your hand in a hurry, almost as if he had been burnt by your skin.

“He’s just my best friend,” you told the woman, who nodded this time.

She invited you to take a look at the dresses, and she made a few propositions as well. You soon started to try some, avoiding the most ridiculous ones that were proposed to you.

And Oscar was struggling to keep a neutral face when the dresses were getting more and more beautiful, every new dress fitting your curves better than the previous one. He could feel his heart beating erratically inside his chest, the sight of you in a wedding dress making him lose his mind. He could manage to hide his reactions for now though, and he was grateful for his long years spent at acting for teaching him how to fake emotions and smiles while inside he was a perfect mess. And he managed to keep this neutral, sometimes even humourous, mask.

Until you walked back inside the room in _this_ dress…

This white dress, that revealed your shoulders and arms before holding your chest and hips perfectly, and starting to float around your legs until the soft fabric brushed the ground, hiding your bare feet.

He took a sharp intake of breath, but it felt like all the air had been stolen from his lungs. He knew his jaw had dropped but he couldn’t control his movements anymore. He couldn’t think, nor speak, and not even breathe but he didn’t really care. His eyes were fixed upon you, and he couldn’t imagine how he could ever look away. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings anymore, of anything at all besides you dressed in that long gown… you were so beautiful… you were a dream…

He felt his throat tightening. A dream… it was all you were now. You were unreachable, you were a ghost he kept himself attached to, a precious future that he had lost a long time ago but that he kept with him even if it was gone, for it was too painful to live without the memories…

But now reality was striking him right in the chest, punching him so hard, it could have knocked him down. Because you were not his anymore, and you would never be…

“You okay?”

He started as Claire touched his arm, and he suddenly closed his mouth that had remained agape for several seconds.

“Yeah, sure. I’m perfectly fine,” he said, shaking himself out of his thought, but his voice still a bit hoarse.

“What do you think of this one?” you asked. “I like this one.”

He nodded, a warm smile spreading across his features.

“I love this one. You look stunning.”

You beamed. You were shining, happiness oozing from your skin, he could feel it.

So he bit down his tongue, and tried to swallow back all this bitterness that was running through his veins at that moment. Because after all, for all these years, since you were children, all he wanted was you to be happy. He could have done anything to make you happy, even breaking his own heart, just like he was doing now…

But that was so painful… seeing you in that white dress… He couldn’t help but think about that day, in high school, that night you had danced with him under the stars and this old oak you loved so much by then, wearing this white dress he had never forgotten. He could see you standing there, barely eighteen, in that white dress of yours, climbing down the staircase of your parents’ house, the sound of your naked feet echoing through the silent hall.

He couldn’t do it…

“I’ll take just a minute,” he excused himself, turning towards the toilets.

He strode, almost ran towards the door. He needed to escape from this… from all this…

He rested his hands on the edges of the closest sink, and immediately felt tears escaping his eyes. He tried to stop them from falling down his cheeks but he couldn’t, the pain was too strong…

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror, at his eyes already swollen and reddened by his salty tears, at his wet cheeks, his trembling lips. He tightened his hold on the sink, trying to get a grip on himself again. He needed to. He needed to get out of this room looking happy and content. He needed to do this, for you…

He hoped you would have abandoned that dress when he would come back, and would be back into your normal clothes. He couldn’t believe that he had agreed to do this in the first place, helping you to choose the dress for your wedding with Charles when…

… hell, he wanted to see you in this perfect white dress but not to marry Charles, to marry _him._ He wanted you to wear it at _his_ wedding, not Charles’s.

The more time was flying by, the more he was starting to doubt that he could handle it. Perhaps he was not strong enough to let you go after all…

He jumped as the door behind him opened, and he immediately turned away from the door to hide the traces of his sorrow that still stained his features.

“You okay? Y/N’s waiting,” Claire asked, her voice softer than usual.

“I’m fine,” Oscar merely answered, hoping his voice would not sound too shaky.

She nodded, silently closing the door again. But it took Oscar just a few more seconds to walk out of the bathroom with a smile on his face.

You grinned at him, still wearing this wedding dress…

“So I should take this one, right?” you asked him.

He nodded, and you gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks for helping me with this.”

His smile grew more tender, and more earnest as well.

“I’ll always be here, Y/N.”

You smiled back at him.

“That good old promise, right?” you nodded, not giving him the chance to answer as you walked away to change into your casual clothes again.

But he slowly nodded nonetheless, and during all this time, Claire had been staring at him, a saddened expression on her face where there was almost pity. But Oscar didn’t notice her, his eyes staring at the void before him.

He had promised he would always love you that day, that day when you were wearing this white dress under the stars and the green leaves. He had promised you that he would always love you.

And he always held true to his word…


End file.
